


Who Makes The Rules?

by trajeudi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, based off something else but with my cool influence all over this badboy, only a few instances of violence tagging just in case, possible p5 spoilers, romance not focal point fyi, set in the generic far future, some sad stuff but its ok, uncovering schemes saving the world you know how it is, y'all like sci-fi? some fuckin cyberpunk?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 18:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15540210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajeudi/pseuds/trajeudi
Summary: In the back of his mind, he wondered how the hell he got here. He never expected to leave Leblanc, let alone die outside it. The red strings he used to pull were now ripped from his hands. Someone else had taken them and moved him around just to cut the threads and sent him to his death. Now he had only minutes to live. But if there was a way to go, it would be this. It’d make a pretty epic scene in a movie, he thought to himself.





	Who Makes The Rules?

**Author's Note:**

> hello folks and welcome, i have been waiting to share this forever. 
> 
> first off, this is based of of the game "the red strings club" which i highly recommend, i got the idea for this in the shower after playing it like five times in a row (don't worry it's short) and feeling a little too gay. a sizable chunk of dialogue, events, ideas, etc. come from the game so fair warning that it might be weird if you've played it before or plan on playing it, not to say that i haven't changed around the plot, especially for the ending. 
> 
> also, goro is called a different (but similar) name for this chapter and the beginning of the next chapter. don't worry this is still everyone's favorite golden boy, just called something else. 
> 
> if you're interested in some sick music that inspired this, [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkzdg2KmewY&t=0s) a link to it  
> all instrumental, all very much the tone of this fic
> 
> with that, sit back, and enjoy the show

Akira sighed and watched the windows of the city blur past him. There could be hundreds, even thousands of people watching him fall to his death right now. The skyscrapers these days were so tall, he would likely be dead before he even hit the ground. Bleeding out was surely less painful than being smashed on the pavement. It was a little late to complain now anyway.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how the hell he got here. He never expected to leave Leblanc, let alone die outside it. The red strings he used to pull were now ripped from his hands. Someone else had taken them and moved him around just to cut the threads and sent him to his death. Now he had only minutes to live. But if there was a way to go, it would be this. It’d make a pretty epic scene in a movie, he thought to himself.

He heard a staticy sound through the rush of blood and wind in his ear and remembered the earpiece somehow still in place. There were still things to be done. Somewhere in the freefall he found his voice. “Hey, Futaba. Are you listening?”

* * *

“Hey, Akira. Are you listening?” Futaba was glaring at him from a booth on the other side of the counter. She had taken over the table to muck about with her implant, scattering circuit boards and wires and tubes and other techie junk he didn’t understand everywhere. He had just cleaned that table too.

“You don’t need to stop every three sentences to ask if I’m listening,” he replied. He went back to drying the few dishes left in the sink. There were only a few more to go before he could finally kick Futaba out and go to bed. Leblanc was closed, as if she ever cared.

“So that girl from TEKKO, Niijima, turns out she was just using me to smoke out the mole in the city police,” Futaba says, going back to her ‘work’.

“Niijima as in Niijima Makoto?” He finishes up the washing and puts away the cups and dishes where they belong.

“Of course you’d know her.” She rolls her eyes dramatically before continuing. “Anyway, I almost got arrested, but I managed to hack my way out of the bot patrol car.”

Akira doesn’t know how she says these things so casually. There wasn’t much hope for him getting her to stop with the shady work she does, but he could try. He stays silent long enough for Futaba to look up from the mess she was making. “One day you’re gonna end up dead, or worse if you keep doing business with those TEKKO assholes,” he says.

“We live in a city ruled by corporations. If I didn’t associate with assholes I’d be out of work in no time.”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything more. Futaba would do what she wants, regardless of what Akira thought. Kids her age should be studying for exams and hanging out with friends, not doing business with weird organizations. Especially not ones that screw over lowly cafe owners and their friends.

“So,” she says, pushing away her tools. “Basically, today sucked. Why don’t you hit me up with something?”

“Coffee at this time of night?” Futaba stares him down from across the room, and he sighs. “Fine, what are you in the mood for?”

Immediately she perks up and quickly reassembles the implant to pop it back onto the back of her neck before sliding into a stool at the counter. “Surprise me.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Akira poked about on the shelves, pulling out a few tins to mix something up. He looked at Futaba and beyond, beyond the glasses and eyes and poorly dyed hair.

When Akira made coffee, it wasn’t your average brew. He manipulated people’s emotions with the drinks he served. Sometimes if you believe in something hard enough, it’ll come true. He couldn’t force people to feel things they weren’t already experiencing, subconsciously or not, but he could still use his skill for his “other” line of work.

What he saw in Futaba was her average, a mixture of pride and anxiety. But today there was something else stuck in there too. Regret. He knew Futaba felt awkward about telling him how she feels without the coffee, no matter how much she actually wants to, so he decided to make his blend to bring that regret out, if only to help her get it off her chest.

“What took you so long?” asked Futaba when he finally set the cup down in front of her. “Doing your weird ‘looking into the depths of my soul’ thing?”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s not what it is.”

“Sure, okay.”

“You can laugh after you drink it, you know I always get it right.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s see how right you got it tonight.” She took a careful sip of the coffee before putting it down and soon after her expression fell a bit. She propped up her head on her hand. Here it was. “So, Akira…”

“Hmm…?”

“You know, I’m sorry that I keep working with TEKKO after learning what they did to you…” She took another sip of the coffee. Akira watched with a careful gaze. “And I know they’re kinda maybe extreme, and just a little volatile, but you gotta understand…”

He couldn’t look at Futaba, not while she tried to make excuses for and justify TEKKO. It was just hard to listen to. She was just a dumb kid, but she was still his friend. That didn’t seem to mean anything to her professional side. His gaze was shifted ever so slightly to the right as Futaba continued, just to make it seem like he was still looking at her.

“They’re good for the city. For us. There aren’t a lot of hacktivist groups that can play on a level field with the shitty corps and government.”

Akira sighed. Earnest eyes lay behind her glasses. She was being honest, as if she could ever be cruel enough to lie about something like this. “We’ve been over this. I get that it’s just work. But don’t ever think I’ll be okay with them.”

Futaba averted her gaze and quickly downed the rest of her drink before pushing the cup back towards Akira. He picked it up and walked to the sink to rewash it. “If the very saviour of mankind broke your knees and poisoned you with an implant-rejecting virus, how hard would you find it to sympathize with them?”

“I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m still sorry though.”

Akira fixed her with an impassive stare before drying off the cup and replacing in where it belonged. He walked back to Futaba who was now resting her face against the bar and patted her head. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

There was a shattering noise outside, and then the door to the cafe pushed open, hard. A guy stumbled in before collapsing right onto the floor. At first glance he looked to be covered in implants, but no. This was an android.He was just showing up to Leblanc in the middle of the night and immediately falling over. Just like any other day, right?

Futaba snapped her head up and got of her seat to stand over the guy. “What the hell, dude! Didn’t you read the sign? We’re closed!” She didn’t make a very menacing picture, but it wasn’t as if the guy would notice. He was still face down on the floorboards.

“That’s not a drunk person, Futaba. That’s an android.”

Her face went to confusion, then apprehension, then hesitant relaxation. “God, I thought it was some implant-obsessed freak…”

Akira leaned over the counter to look down at the android. “Get him up, let’s see what we got here.”

“Sir yes, sir.” Futaba crouched down and helped the android into a sitting position. “Hello? Who are you?”

The android seemed confused, which was pretty unnatural to see on an android’s face. “5… 2…”

“52?” She looked up to Akira. “Ring any bells for you?”

He hummed and looked over the android. He looked nearly naked, if you could really call a robot that. A pink design that glowed ever so slightly made its way up and around his chest, stopping just below his chin. He was just in black shorts with matching boots that made it up to his knees. Akira looked closer and realized that these weren’t actual boots, just a built in part of the design. “He’s in pretty bad shape, but I believe this is a Kogoro android from Seiji Ltd.”

Bad shape was an understatement. He was sparking from almost every place he could, and a large hole was gouged out of his right shoulder. His hair was long and stuck to his face in odd ways. It was no blood and gore, but it still made him cringe a bit. ”They still haven’t seen the light of day. According to what I’ve heard, they’ve only been put to use internally at Seiji.”

“Then what the hell is he doing here?”

Akira shrugged. There was no reason for a supposedly secret android to show up in a back alley coffee shop in the middle of the night. But stranger things could happen, and fate sometimes liked to cause confusing situations. “Rumors say this is the first android capable of making ethical decisions, examining every single factor in play in the life of a subject.”

“God, could you go back to saying less words?”

He ignored her. “They mind emotional status, social impact, economic repercussions, legal risks… You know, the works.”

“You’re pretty knowledgeable about this for someone who doesn’t leave the damn building. And how come you never told me this?”

“I’m an information broker, that’s how we deal. Share the trivial, sell the relevant.”

Futaba looked incredulous. “But we’re supposed to be a team, Akira!”

“Exactly. I’m protecting you here, knowing too much can compromise your safety. Especially because you’re the field agent of this partnership.”

“Well! They could try to torture it out of me, and I’d just end up dead because I won’t have any leverage!” Akira sighed and closed his eyes. They both knew he had won this argument, but she was going to make it as hard for him as possible.

“Human improvement compromised…” The android was speaking again. Akira opened his eyes to look down at him. It was a little hard to watch him just sit there and spark, so he turned his eyes to Futaba who was making a face.

“Uhhh, that was creepy enough,” she said. She pulls a blue cord from her implant on her neck and starts searching for the port on the side of the android. “I’m going in to check the memory banks.”

Akira raised his eyebrows. “You’re connecting to that fireworks factory? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Don’t you want to know how our robot friend here got to Leblanc? Don’t worry, I’m not going in far.”

“Fine. Just… don’t be reckless.” Futaba knew what she was doing. At least, that’s what Akira told himself. He watched as Futaba connected the cable with the little port she found on his neck.

“Oh, and you can pay me later for the info I get.”

“Pay you? I thought you said we’re a team.”

“It’s for your own good, sweet cheeks.” She winked, and just like that, she flicked a switch and her gaze unfocused. She was gone, for better or for worse.

* * *

“Hello World.”

Kogoro stood in the middle of the metal room. It was small but not cramped, even with the pieces of equipment against the walls. He turned to look at the wall behind him and instead of more equipment, there was a long window looking in on a small metal corridor. Plain. Boring.

“Greetings, Kogoro-52. Welcome to the job,” said a slightly robotic voice overhead. Kogoro quickly identified it as Supervision, the bot that would be directing his work. “Seiji Ltd. clinic division H+CORPS expects you to be an excellent human upgrade crafter. Please, familiarize yourself with your work zone until you’re comfortable.”

“Yes, master. Thank you.” He turned back around to look at the table and chair where he assumed most of his work would take place. It was clean, with a lathe hooked up to a cable that disappeared somewhere beyond the surface and a small machine directly to the right of it.

“This is the pottery disk. With it you will shape hand-crafted limbs and organs for the clients,” Supervision explained.

He ran his hand along the circle before walking away to another machine similar to a computer. The screen emitted a blue-green glow that echoed onto the dull metal wall behind it, and onto the keyboard below. It didn’t have anything on the screen at the moment, instead showing an uninteresting screensaver moving about in its confines.

Supervision described this to him as well.“This is the official H+CORPS Transhumanist Wiki.” A list of modules overtook the screen. Each design had a different name with a brief description of its purpose next to it. When he tapped the down arrow key it continued on and on as an endless list with thankfully a search and organization lab. “With it, you can study the different upgrades and select one to craft at the pottery disk.”

He didn’t like listening to the explanations, but he would do what it took to get the job done correctly. Without use, it went back to displaying the screensaver. Kogoro look to the last piece of important equipment in the room. Any other machinery in the room was small and appeared to simply support the other things in the room. It was another computer, but with several glowing pink screens rather than a singular one. At least the room wasn’t entirely dull.

“This interface displays data on the client queue.” A list was displayed on the central screen of three upcoming clients, with their individual files shown on the auxiliary screens. “With this, you can keep track of clients progress and postoperative satisfaction.”

Kogoro passed his gaze over the client list. Each gave a name, age, occupation, and their description of whatever problem they want solved. “Are you ready to start getting clients?” Supervision said overhead. He could hear the false emotion programmed into the voice. Helpful, informative, slightly cheery, but still professional.

“Yes, send them in.”

“You will be receiving clients in the operating theatre beyond this door. You will install their necessary upgrades. First one coming.”

Somewhere a machine whirred and a woman in a simple hospital gown was pulled past the window on a belt attached to the ceiling and stopped in front of the door. She was sedated and hanging upright with her body supported by lifts held under the arms. The door opened and her client file was displayed on the screen directly to the left of it.

AMANE SAYO, 21 COSPLAYER  
_No matter what I do I can’t rise my follower count. Please, help me!_

Kogoro read the file and looked at the woman before walking to look through the Transhumanist Wiki. An average want for more attention. This he could solve. He scrolled through one of the categories provided until he found a suitable one, the TEMPLE. _“Eliminates the need for social acceptance.”_

Taking note of the design, he sat down in front of the lathe and pressed a button to produce a smooth block of biomatter. It was purple, with a texture somewhere between gelatin and clay. He looked at the machine and held his finger over a button with a simple music note on. With a tap it began playing interesting music, instrumental, but still engaging. Pressing the button again showed that the machine had multiple songs within it, so Kogoro tapped it until he found a song with a nice beat.

He spun the lathe, and drew out a tool to sculpt the module from the design now in his memory banks. It was a soothing task, even with the loud music echoing in the small room. The module was taking shape under his hands, he was creating something from almost nothing. Once the biomatter sufficiently matched the design, he stopped the disk and picked it up to install in the woman.

It was an easy process, an incision was already made for it on her abdomen and as soon as he pulled away the door shut and she was pulled along out of sight. “You freed them from their dull craving. Well done,” Supervision commented. “Next client incoming.”

This time, a man was brought to the door. Also in a gown, with an incision on the abdomen. This was likely how all clients would come to him. Kogoro studied the file that came with the man.

FUJIWARA TENGO, 31 ENTREPRENEUR  
_I need to get more investors for my several startups. My ideas are great but I can’t talk enough people into financing them._

Kogoro could see it. The greed in his heart that wouldn’t stay satisfied if he simply filled the request as asked by the man. He couldn’t literally of course, but in a way it showed itself on the man’s sleeping face. The Wiki had options for him and he chose what he deemed best for the man. He sat and let the module form by his hands. The FROG. _“Nullifies ambition and thirst for power.”_

He quickly found routine in helping the clients. Often times their requests weren’t what they truly needed for happiness, and Kogoro could step in to aid them. He took batch after batch of clients and listened to the seemingly never ending flow of “focus-enhancing” music.  
Eventually clients stopped coming, leaving him to flick through the music tracks and reread the files of previous clients. Eventually he just turned the music off, instead opting to sit at the table in silence. He didn’t know how long it had been when Supervision spoke to him again.

“Excellent work, Kogoro-52.”

“Thank you, master.”

“Get ready for a new batch of clients. In this new batch you’ll have some customers tagged as Seiji Ltd. executives. When a client matching that profile comes, just install whatever they ask for. We’re in no position to judge our owners.”

Owners. “Understood,” Kogoro replied. He watched from his seat as a woman went by to rest in front of the door. It opened, and he stood to examine her. Oddly enough, there no incision on her abdomen. That was no problem, he knew how to make it himself, but it was rare that a client would come to him with such an error.

TAKAMAKI ANN, 20 FORTUNE TELLER  
_The inhabitants of this city stopped believing in the power of their souls. Please, lend me a way to open their minds._

Someone with true intentions. He could find something in the catalogue to benefit her, something that could draw more people to her or give her a way to better speak to them. As he drew away to search the Wiki, he heard the girl gasp suddenly. She dropped to her knees on the floor from the supports and looked up at Kogoro with her hair hanging in her face and a sweet smile.

* * *

“Holy shit! Ann!” Futaba said, lurching out of her daze.

“What? Takamaki from TEKKO?”

“Yep. From what I’m seeing, it looks like she infiltrated one of Seiji Ltd’s implant clinics. The one where our cute robot friend here worked.”

“Of course. That would make sense.” Akira looked down at the android. He looked exactly as described by his contact, plus a little wear and tear. There were still gaps in the story, but the situation was slowly starting to make more sense.

Futaba gave him a look. “Do I have to pay for this info or are you going to just tell me?”

He suppressed a laugh. “Like I told you, Kogoro androids are a secret project from Seiji. They’re built with a certain degree of conscience that allows them to advise us humans on ‘optimal life decisions’ with our happiness in mind.”

“That’s kind of wack.”

“No shit. The thing is that TEKKO managed to grab a Kogoro for themselves and have been messing around with their ‘conscience’ bits. Guess we’re about to see what they got out of it, and what they plan on doing with it.”

“The plot thickens! I’ll keep digging.” Futaba reached around and flicked the switch to send herself in once more.

* * *

Kogoro stood and watched as the girl sat at the table and messed around with a drive from the Wiki. It was a… difficult situation to parse. “Please, go back to the operation belt so I can help you,” he spoke up, but she didn’t respond. He glanced up towards where Supervision was monitoring him from. “If you don’t go back I can’t make you happy.”

“Don’t worry, I’m in the process of making myself happy,” she finally replied. She didn’t even look up at him, instead just turning the piece over to fiddle with something on the back.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“Why?” The girl finally looked up, humming at the ceiling. Her hair swished and he was stuck again by how the girl (Takamaki?) didn’t seem too fazed by being in front of someone in just a hospital gown. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t human. “Let’s see… How much do you know about yourself?”

“I am Kogoro-52, my purpose is to make humans happy.”

She looked back down at what she was working on. “That’s a way to put it, yeah. You are the first android capable of making ethical decisions. That would qualify you as sentient, you know?” A metal cover slid off the drive to reveal different ports for data. “The people I work with, they think you’re wonderful. I agree with them.”

For once, he couldn’t understand what this girl was saying. Sentient? He was an android, he was not made by natural means or with any portion of organic matter. His being consisted of metal, circuits, and programming to ensure he was the best at what he does. 

“We believe in your potential, and in our opinion, Seiji is cheating by limiting your options. Like they’re making you choose the lesser evil, you know?” She said.

“What are the other options?”

“We’re getting right to it. Think of this as an experiment for the sake of society.” She plugged a usb drive that was tucked in her gown into the drive. “I updated your implant database with a very particular set of choices. I know it’s kinda ironic to remove your previous options, but let’s say they have at least 53 other Kogoros to do their dirty work.”

She waiting a second before unplugging the usb drive and covering the ports again to hand the Wiki drive back to him. He took it from her and inspected it. “Will that make you happy?” he asked.

“More than anything,” she smiled. “Oh, also, TEKKO hacked into the schedule servers of H+CORPS and appointed several Seiji Ltd. executives to come after me. So you can have fun with your bosses.”

“Oh shit,” muttered Futaba.

“What now?”

“TEKKO sent Ann to the implant clinic to sabotage the regular implants with some disruptive human upgrades. Or should I say downgrades?”

He wasn’t surprised. “I told you, TEKKO is plain evil.”

“But they schedules some Seiji’s top brass to that specific clinic. So just let me keep rooting for them.”

* * *

“TEKKO also hacked the Overseer system so… If you can feel worry in any form, don’t sweat it,” Ann said from her spot sitting against the wall across from the door. She had a screen in hand with a program he couldn’t see from this distance booting up. “What we’re doing here is totally under the radar.”

“Can I go back to work?” asked Kogoro.

“Yes, please. I’m gonna be monitoring our rogue implants. I thought I might as well gather some intel from the execs you’re wiring. And… uh… If you ‘feel’ you want to talk about something, I’ll be curled up here.”

“Thank you.” He turned back and pressed a button on the door screen to bring in the next round of clients. A man goes by on the belts, with a file marked as Seiji Ltd. executive, just as the girl said. With the new set of upgrades, this job got a little more complicated than he would have liked.

KURAMOTO BENZO, 47 CFO AT SEIJI LTD.  
_I have a crucial merger to negotiate, hit me up with something powerful._

When he slid the drive back into the Transhumanist Wiki, he found that the original upgrades were indeed gone. Now there were only three in the database. They all had some kind of negative effect, all surefire ways to ruin these executives. Highly enhancing empathy and magnifying compassion. Inducing aversion to corporations and rejection to authority. Rendering the user immune to implant effects. Kogoro looked over his options before choosing the last one, labeled the GRANDPA. Fitting.

He sat at the lathe and created the new module. From his viewpoint, it only made sense to disable their implants. It was his “ethical capabilities” at work, you could say. That was their main program at Seiji, after all. The biomatter began taking shape, and Kogoro flipped on the music, but kept it at a low volume to listen to Takamaki, tapping away on her screen.

Takamaki looked up when she saw him staring. “What’s up?”

“Isn’t what you’re doing illegal?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“So why are you doing it and why does it make you happy?”

“Law and happiness don’t usually go hand in hand.” She sighed and tapped a bit more through her screen. “You asking that kind of question makes me question my faith in your ‘happiness counselling’.”

Kogoro set down his tool. “I have my own set of parameters to measure that. I’m designed to abide by the law while pursuing your happiness.” The lathe lost its momentum and came to a stop without his spinning. “However, I’ve determined that knowing your take on it may help me to aid you better. I have never had the chance to speak with a customer.”

“Ahh… I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “Those corporate assholes don’t usually factor humanity into their equations. Tell you what, after we’re done you should escape with me and come have a drink at Leblanc. There’s a great owner there who can tell you all about human emotion.”

She didn’t look as if she needed a response, so he finished up the module. It felt just like a normal upgrade. It fit just like a normal upgrade. The executive did have the proper incision, TEKKO must have rigged the system to avoid Takamaki getting one unnecessarily. The door closed to take him away. Supervision didn’t make any comments this time around, likely a part of TEKKO’s hacking. How kind of them.

“From what I’ve heard, Kuramoto even uses implants to keep himself from getting hungry so he can optimize his time,” Takamaki spoke up from behind him. “You just really did a number on that guy.”

The next client seemed to be on a delay, so he sat down at the table and thought while he idly flicked through music tracks again while Takamaki continued her work. “What do you expect from me?” he asks.

“For you to be the ultimate friend.”

Kogoro tilted his head. That wasn’t the answer he expected. “Shouldn’t a friend be another human?”

“No way. Your best friend could well be a cat, or even an imaginary character. People say dog is humanity’s best friend, and I’d dare to say a dog is way less sentient than you, Kogoro.”

Her kindness was stunning. It seemed that his question sparked something in Takamaki, so she continued on. “Look, we have an older model of you at our HQ. And they’ve proven to be an excellent advisor, they’re making a lot of us very happy. I know a few of us even felt in love with that older you. Under the proper influences, free of the corporate bullshit, you have the capacity to be witty and sarcastic and kind. So we want to make you available to the masses. The world needs you.”

“Available to the masses?” he asks.

“Yes. Free, as in freedom.”

“Freedom…” It was hard for Kogoro to think about leaving the workroom after so long. He didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, as the telltale sound of the belt moving a new client echoed through the room.

It was a woman, looking as if she had seen better days. Bags under her eyes, dark hair disheveled. There was a pinch on the bridge of her nose from wearing glasses that didn’t fit right. The client file popped up for him to read.

ISSHIKI WAKABA, 38 COO AT SEIJI LTD.  
_I’ve been dealing with a strong anxiety crisis lately due to our recent company plans. I need to get a hold of myself._

That would explain her appearance. While her file made her seem honest, there was no doubt that there was corruption layered beneath. He decided to fit her with the same module he gave Kuramoto, and sat at the disk. This upgrade could encourage her to turn herself around.  
It was easier to create the upgrade after doing it once before, so he let his attention wander. Takamaki looked focused on her tablet, but Kogoro still wanted to ask questions, even if it felt weird to be so insistent on answers. “Why do you deem me sentient?” he decided to say.

She looked up with an almost confused face. “That you even ask that question only further proves my point. I’d say you’re the most advanced artificial mind mankind’s ever created. So advanced it blurs the meaning of the term artificial.” He could hear the wonder and amazement in her voice. “If you can operate at the same levels as us, doesn’t that make us artificial in some way, too? As Wikipedia says: ‘Sentience is the ability of any entity to have subjective personal experiences’.”

Kogoro thought for a minute and took the time to switch out his tools for a more suitable one to mold the biomatter. “How do you know I have that kind of subjectivity?”

“You excel in every area of what we humans call consciousness. Intelligence: we’re having a smart conversation, aren’t we? Sapience: you’re specialized in judgement, so there you go. Self-Awareness: you seem pretty interested in knowing more about yourself. Creativity: come on, you craft implants on a lathe. Intentionality… well, I’m not sure what that is, but I’m sure you have just as much of that as I do, too.” She gazed down at the floor with a soft smile. “So, basically, to judge happiness you have to understand its causes and its consequences. To be able to feel.”

With it all laid out like that, he could see how she thought he could be on par with humans. But he was still metal and wires, something he couldn’t change. “I’m not sure if I feel.”

“Come with me after we’re done here and I’ll prove it to you.” She looked down at her screen with a small frown. “Listen, I really love talking philosophy with you, but let’s focus on the mission. We’ll resume this conversation when I’ve got clothes on. I’m freezing.” 

He nodded and spun the lathe a bit more to bring it back up to speed. The upgrade soon took shape, and was ready to be installed. When he put it in he couldn’t help but wonder if he didn’t feel bad simply because he was unable to, or if it was because he truly did want to see this woman suffer. Neither thought was very appealing.

Takamaki watched the door close on the woman before speaking. “Judging from her emotional unsteadiness, I’d bet that wasn’t the first psychological regulation upgrade she’s had. Shit’s flying towards Seiji’s fan at top speed. In any case, I wonder what she’s so anxious about. Let’s try digging into her neural drive…”

“With all due respect, that doesn’t really seem ethical.”

“Well, Kogoro, that’s what we revolutionaries do. We break rules in pursuit of a better world.” Her screen was covered in long strands of code. She really was looking through this woman’s neural drive, to his disappointment.

“How does breaking the rules lead to a better world?” he asks.

“The question is… who defined the rules in the first place?” she says, as if it isn’t such a strange question. Kogoro was stunned to silence while he tried figuring out how to reply.

“To properly answer that question I’ll need to delve deeper into the meaning and implication of ‘rules’. Then I’ll be able to determine who should be the creator of them,” he managed.

Takamaki gifted him an amused look, but didn’t say anything more.

This next client seemed to be taking a while, so instead of annoying her by flipping through music tracks he decided to go check on the file ahead of time. He glanced at Takamaki who was still absorbed in her work before flicking through the client list and finding the one upcoming.

ALIBABA, ??  
_It’s time. Activate my Mirror Neuron Algorithm inhibitor._

Was this file incorrect? No last name, age, career… it was missing the key information found in the typical file. He tried reloading it again, but the error remained. Perhaps this was an effect of TEKKO’s interference. Whoever this was would come through soon anyway, the file could be-

“This can’t be possible!” Takamaki exclaimed. Kogoro turned to see her staring wide-eyed at her screen. “If you ever get the chance, you should try talking ethics with your creators, not me. I just uncovered the most fucked up scheme a corporation has tried to pull yet.”

Seiji is planning to transfer us all into a pile of smiling brainless dolls. The project goes by the name of ‘SOCIAL PSYCHE WELFARE’. It involves every human being with implants in them… No shit they’ve been slashing prices on implants over the last few years!”

I read here that currently more than 59% of the population wears some kind of upgrade. But they plan to expand the program to 99.7% of the population by some sort of… Mirror Neuron Algorithm? They plan to execute this on… What? But this is…”

A shot fires from a surveillance camera Kogoro didn’t notice had pulled out from overhead and Takamaki’s blood finds its way to the wall, the floor, the screen… it’s everywhere. If he could, he would feel sick. TEKKO’s hacking was reverted. Surveillance came back online. Kogoro looks up into the camera.

“Who makes the rules?” he asks.

“Kogoro-52 commitment compromised. Dismissing unit.” The camera begins charging a shot as he hurries to the door and wrenches the metal open with all the strength he has. It hits him in the shoulder, narrowly missing his neck. He just makes it through the door before it can charge another, more lethal, shot.

**Author's Note:**

> please direct all mad/sad/glad words to the comments section, i love attention
> 
> some extra unnecessary notes on naming things:
> 
> seiji means justice, so this is what i decided to name the company as reference to their ideals and such.
> 
> tekko comes from the proper name for makoto's melee weapons in game. too bad she doesn't appear in the story :(
> 
> kogoro is from where goro's name comes from, the detective akechi kogoro who is a character created by japanese mystery writer edogawa ranpo
> 
> see, aren't we all learning things? i'm still new to the whole writing for people to read thing so i hope you all enjoyed this and i'll see you next time


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